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Thornstar's Rise
This is a fanfiction by FlightRewritten. It features the life of an ancient ShadowClan leader, Thornstar. Little Note: Please do not edit this if you are not being careful with the grammatical, spelling, or other "errors" you are correcting. Prologue The camp was eerily quiet. No cats stirred; they were all huddled in their dens, trying to keep warm and out of the chilling wind ripping through their camp. The leaf-bare freeze passing through the pine forests and marshes had brought a bout of greencough along with it, and all of ShadowClan was suffering. Many cats had already succumbed to the sickness. It seemed there was no stopping it. * * * A yowl of agony sounded from a the far corners of the camp. Owlpaw jabbed his mentor in the side, hissing at him with a hint of urgency in his voice. His mentor twitched twice, letting out a long groan. Owlpaw inhaled the sharp scent of the medicine's cat den. If there was any cat who could cure Dustleap, it was him. Owlpaw padded into the corner of the den, and pulled a few pieces of catmint out of a deep hole in the ground. He made it back to his mentor's side in only a few leaps, and started nudging the herb toward him. "Dustleap, wake up," he urged, nudging the old cat gently with his paws. "You'll make it through this, I know it. Just eat the catmint and you'll be perfectly fine." Dustleap's amber eyes flashed open. They were no longer fiery with the tireless energy of the medicine cat before he had caught the sickness - they were now dull and glazed, barely focusing on his apprentice. "Let me be, Owlpaw. There are greater challenges to face - Thornstar is terribly ill. She's clinging onto her final life. Forget about me, my apprentice. I have taught you all that I know. Now go help your leader. You can do no more for me." the old tom rasped. He gently set his head back down. His breathing grew shallower and shallower, until at last he was still. Owlpaw let out a moan of grief and nestled his face into his mentor's fur. But he could not grieve now. Owlpaw leaped onto his paws and ran back to where the catmint was stored. He grabbed as much as he could in his mouth and ran in the direction of the leader's den. "So you came." Amber eyes stared at Owlpaw as he carried the catmint into Thornstar's den. He carefully sat them down and nudged them toward the sickly she-cat. "Eat these, Thornstar. There's no need to be worried about losing your final life. I'll make sure you live through this leaf-bare." Owlpaw meowed encouragingly, nudging the catmint closer to his leader. "You'll survive, Thornstar! You'll lead ShadowClan to victory many more times! You have more moons left in you than you think, I know it." Owlpaw's only response was a hacking cough from Thornstar. She shivered, paws and tails twitching. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. "StarClan is calling to me, Owlpaw. You cannot reverse this. StarClan is ready to take me in. I have served my Clan through many seasons, long and short alike. Stormfoot will be a good leader to you. I trust him. I trust you. The Clan will be safe in your paws, Owlpaw. May StarClan light your path." she tried to stand up, though her attempt was feeble and she collapsed onto the ground, another spasm shaking her as she let out another fit of coughing. "No, Thornstar! You'll live! I promise I'll help you. The Clan hasn't seen the last of you. You'll carry on through this leaf-bare. I know-" Owlpaw paused as he looked at his leader. She was lying still, her breathing getting shallower and shallower. She coughed a few times more, shivering, and then she lay still. "NO!" Owlpaw shook his leader, looking for any signs of life. But Thornstar's breathing had ceased. She had gone to join StarClan. Owlpaw looked at his paws, guilt stabbing at his heart like the sharpest thorns or the jagged peaks of Highstones. It was over. Thornstar was dead. Chapter 1 A shriek of agony sounded from inside of the nursery. Foxstrike lay on her side, flanks heaving, eyes glazed and wide with terror. Her ginger pelt was now dull and messy, and her green eyes were dull. Goosepelt sat by her side, fur fluffed up in fear for his mate. "Dustleap! They're coming!" he yowled. Foxstrike growled at him, eyes narrowing. She sheathed and unsheathed her claws frantically, looking around wildly for a stick to bite on. Another spasm shook her, and she shrieked again. "I don't need any cat yowling for the medicine cat's help! I'll manage fine!" she snapped once she recovered her breath. But she had to admit that Dustleap would help her. Foxstrike pricked her ears at the sound of pawsteps. Dustleap's scent washed over her, along with the sour tang of the medicine cat's den. "Here. Bite down on it when you feel pain. It should ease it." Dustleap shoved a stick toward her. It was thick and sturdy. There were no branches sticking out of it. It certainly didn't look easy to break. Foxstrike nodded with satisfaction, but she hardly had any time before the next spasm shook her. She screeched and bit down on the stick as a small, wet bundle of fur slid out onto the ground next to her. "A large, strong, handsome tom!" Dustleap announced, warmth sparking in his eyes as he looked down at the kit at Foxstrike's side. It was ginger, just like his mother. Foxstrike was licking frantically, trying to break up the kitting sac. She let out a squeak of worry when she saw the kit not breathing, but soon the kitting sac fell away and air started filling his tiny lungs. Foxstrike unsheathed her claws. Her eyes glazed over as she dug her claws hard into the soil. She shrieked and bit down onto the stick once more. A smaller clump of fur was soon at her side, joining its brother. "A she-kit." Dustleap whispered. He helped Foxstrike lick her daughter, but she lashed out at him, her claw connecting with his nose, drawing blood. Dustleap flinched, a hurt look in his eyes. "I was only trying to help," he mewed softly. The two kits were now squirming at their mother's side. Foxstrike's eyes gleamed happily as she licked her kits. They were so small, so helpless. I will keep you safe. I will never let you be harmed. "What shall we name them?" Goosepelt queried, eying the two kits. "They look so small and weak. How about Tinykit and Littlekit?" he suggested. The ginger tomkit wailed his disagreement. The she-kit whimpered and edged away from her littermate. "What about Sunkit for the tom?" Foxstrike meowed, licking the ginger kit. "His fur is as bright as the sun, and he already has the strength and ferocity of a warrior." she curled her tail around the two kits, who let out squeals of protest as their mother licked them. "And the she-kit?" Goosepelt hissed. "Thornkit." Foxstrike mewed back, referring to the kit's thick, spiky fur, which stuck out like countless tiny, harmless thorns. The she-kit let out a soft mew as she nestled farther into her mother's fur. "They're beautiful, Foxstrike." Goosepelt whispered, his eyes gleaming with a father's pride. He ran his tongue over the tomkit's fur, and in response, he squealed in protest and batted at his father with tiny, sheathed paws. "He's a little warrior already." Goosepelt purred. "Yes, he is. And he and his sister will be the best warriors ShadowClan has seen." Foxstrike added. * * * "Can't catch me!" Sunkit squealed happily as he bolted around the camp, small paws thrumming against the ground so quickly it was almost as if they never touched it at all. Wind whipped against his face, and he nearly crashed into two warriors sharing a frog near the fresh-kill pile. Thornkit hissed and padded farther back into the nursery, fur bristling. "For the last time, Sunkit, I'm not going to play with you. I'm not a mouse-brain like you. I'd rather observe stuff around me. It'll do me more good later in life than chasing some lame kits around the camp," she growled, eyes narrowing to glowing amber slits. Sunkit flinched, a hurt look sparking in his eyes. "I'm not mouse-brained! I'm just having fun!" he protested. "You should learn to have fun, too! Don't grow up so fast. Take some time to be a kit." Sunkit padded away toward the fresh-kill pile. He nudged a mouse and, after sniffing it, took a bite. He quickly spat it out, hissing with disgust. "Ugh! What is that? It tastes as foul as it smells! How do older cats eat this? I'll stick to milk, thank you very much," Sunkit turned around, his cheerful mood soured, and walked back into the nursery, tail trailing behind him. "Mouse-brain," Thornkit snickered, padding not far behind him. She stepped over her mother's tail and curled up beside her belly. She let Sunkit's squeals of joy fade away as the sweet scents of milk and the nursery swirled around her, calming her and sending her into a dark, soothing blackness. Thornkit opened her eyes to see a thick, musty darkness accumulating around her. She felt like she was about to choke on the thick fog around her. She could hardly see where she was putting her own paws. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain through her paws and she tripped over something. Lifting the stinging paw, Thornkit saw it was a gnarled stump embedded in the loose soil below. Tall trees stretched up several fox-lengths high, their branches entwining to create a sort of roof to block out the sky. "W-Where am I?" Thornkit whimpered, fur fluffed up with fear and her eyes as wide as the moon. She backed up until she felt herself bump something- something with fur. An angry hiss sounded from a thick-furred, battle scarred tom with narrowed blue eyes. His black fur was bristling, and was stained with something sticky. Thornkit yelped and took a step back when she realized what it was. Blood. "Welcome, Thornkit. I see you've discovered the hidden side of StarClan, where we train cats for battle. We teach more complex moves, and we aren't like your soft, kittypet-like mentors," he hissed smugly, eyes flashing with an emotion Thornkit could not decipher. She instinctively unsheathed her claws and snarled. "Fierce, just as any true warrior should be. I'm Darkpelt, a former deputy of ShadowClan. Follow me, I'll take you to where we train our apprentices." he started padding down a narrow path littered with brambles and thistles. Thornkit whimpered and followed him. * * * The sounds of shrieks split the air. Tufts of fur clung to the bare branches of trees, and blood stained the ground, which was void of any growth besides a few scraggly bushes. A large tabby tom who looked nine moons old lumbered past, shooting a glare at Thornkit as he crossed her path. A white tom, was pinning down a small cream-colored she-cat, and a gray-and-white she-cat had fastened her teeth into her apprentice's throat. Thornkit whimpered, her fur bristling with fear. "This is StarClan?" she squeaked. "Shut up, mange-pelt." Darkpelt snapped, baring his teeth at the terrified kit as he led the way into the clearing where the cats were fighting. "Tornclaw, Cinderwhisker, Mousepaw, and what's left of Amberpaw. I would like you to meet Thornkit, my new apprentice." he introduced. "Hmm... a puny kit, eh?" Cinderwhisker sneered. "So you're taking her ''in as your apprentice, while we've got these strong apprentices, you're going to be stuck with that mange-pelt?" The cats around her hissed threateningly, and took a step closer to the trembling kit. "I am not a mange-pelt or a puny kit. I am stronger than I look. And I will show you just how capable I am of harming you, even though I'm a 'puny kwit'." Thornkit growled, baring her teeth. Her amber eyes flashed menacingly, despite the darkness. She lunged for the gray-and-white she-cat, hooking her burr-sharp claws into her back. Cinderwhisker barely reacted, sinking her teeth into Thornkit's scruff, then tearing her off of her back and shaking her. She flung the kit into a tree. "There. She's finished. Amberpaw, make sure she doesn't get up." Cinderwhisker beckoned with her tail to her apprentice, a dark ginger she-cat, who's eyes were narrowed and fixed on the broken body of Thornkit. "With pleasure," she replied. Amberpaw sprang and landed squarely on Thornkit, who had flipped over, holding her paws up to defend herself. She swiped her claws across Amberpaw's face, who hissed and pressed her claws against Thornkit's neck. Thornkit's eyes widened. ''I'm going to die. I'm going to die! She's going to tear my throat out and I'm going to lie here with the life bleeding out of me! Suddenly, Thornkit raked her claws down Amberpaw's sharp underbelly. The move put Thornkit into control. Amberpaw squirmed furiously and lifted her paw, prepared to rake them down Thornkit's belly just as she had done. Thornkit barely dodged the attack, with Amberpaw's claws slicing through air about a hairlength away. Thornkit turned, bared her teeth, and leaped, but a cat snapped its jaws around her tail, and dragged her away. "You show great potential to excel in battle." Cinderwhisker meowed, disappointment flickering in her gaze as she looked at her defeated apprentice, who was now standing up and glaring at the light brown kit beside her mentor. "We'll invite you every night to train here, where you'll slowly but surely become great with your battle moves. Believe me, this is an offer you don't want to turn down." Thornkit's amber gaze was locked on the battle-scarred she-cat. "I accept. I like this place, and you'll be sure to see me every night." "Then it is settled." Cinderwhisker hissed. "You will train here until you become a warrior." * * * Thornkit awoke, blinking the tiredness away. She rose from her spot beside her mother and stepped over her tail, careful not to wake her or any other queen as she tiptoed out of the nursery. The air was crisp and cool. A glow was tainting the horizon a soft golden color as the sun rose into the sky. Thornkit padded into the elders' den. The cats were fast asleep, a couple of them snoring lightly and getting jabbed in the ribs when their denmates kicked in their sleep. "Thornkit? What are you doing awake?" Thornkit turned to see Specklepaw sitting just outside of the elders' den, her tail curled around her paws. "Not trying to trick the elders, are you?" "What? No. I just couldn't sleep, so I took a walk around the camp." Thornkit replied. "It's so quiet before dawn," she observed, eyes flickering over the elders' den and the apprentice in front of her. "Well, okay then." Specklepaw shrugged, got up, and padded away, her tortoiseshell-and-white pelt fluffed up against the morning chill. She settled down beside the fresh-kill pile, where she carefully plucked a mouse from the top and started devouring it in large, hasty bites. Thornkit padded out after her, but instead of heading for the fresh-kill pile, she headed back toward the nursery. When she entered, Thornkit was relieved to see no one had awoken to see she was missing. She settled down beside her mother when she heard a whisper from her brother. "Where did you go?" he whispered, careful to not to wake his mother. "Did you sneak out of camp? Try to eat from the fresh-kill pile? You smell like mouse," he exclaimed, edging away from his sister. "Well, I woke up early and I sneaked into the elders' den, the reason for why I did that, I don't know. But then Specklepaw caught me and so I followed her out to the fresh-kill pile for a while. Then I came back in and that's when you started interrogating me." Thornkit hissed. "Now shut up and go to sleep, mouse-brain." Sunkit was about to set his head down, but he suddenly pricked his ears. Fur bristling along his spine, he cautiously stepped over his mother's tail and out of the nursery. He saw what he thought were amber eyes flash in the undergrowth. Panting and with eyes as wide as little moons, Sunkit turned tail and ran back into the nursery. As if on cue, a shriek cut through the still morning air. Thornkit's heart sank. ThunderClan cats, and they're attacking the camp! Chapter 2 Foxstrike screeched, wide-eyed with fear. "Kits, get behind me!" she yowled. Thornkit scurried up to her mother, pressing herself against her mother's warm fur. She could smell fear hanging in the nursery air. Outside, shrieks and hissing split the air, the tang of blood growing heavier with each passing second. Suddenly, a ThunderClan cat stepped into the nursery, growling, his eyes narrowed to slits and his teeth snapping at the queens. Thornkit watched in horror as Sunkit threw himself onto the warrior. "Sunkit, NO!" Foxstrike screeched. She tried to snatch her son by the tail, but he was already a flurry of claws and teeth on the warrior's back. Suddenly, the warrior shook him off forcefully and threw his paws down on the stunned kit. Foxstrike watched the warrior hurt her son, her paws frozen to the ground with fear. The warrior was nose-to-nose with Sunkit, his teeth bared. "You mange-pelts have stolen enough prey from our territory. Now you will suffer, and I don't care how much the warrior disapproves of the decision I will make right now. I am going to kill you, and then maybe you and your other lice-ridden excuses for cats will learn your lesson." he hissed quietly, anger and insanity flashing in his eyes. Battle had clearly driven this cat crazy- if he would kill a kit, what would he do to a grown warrior? Sunkit suddenly felt the weight of the tom lifted from him. His mother was pinning him down, her ginger fur smeared with the ThunderClan warrior's blood. She bit down hard into his neck, then jerked her head around, snapping the tom's neck. She nodded with a satisfied look, then gathered her kits and retreated to the dark corners of the nursery. A shriek sounded from outside. A tang of blood and fear, mingled with the leader's scent. "Adderstar." Foxstrike breathed, eyes wide. "You kits stay here with Willowear. She'll keep you safe until the battle is over. Won't you, Willowear?" Foxstrike turned to look at a dappled gray she-cat with bright blue eyes. Willowear nodded. "They will be safe with me, Foxstrike." she whispered, gathering the kits with her tail and keeping them close to her thick, soft fur. "You'll be okay, little ones. Don't fret, your mother will be back shortly." Willowear reassured them. "She is a true warrior, brave, strong, and loyal. ShadowClan honors her courage to jump into battle and fight for her kits." * * * Foxstrike stood on three paws. She looked up at the brown tabby tom, satisfaction gleaming in his fiery amber eyes. She was covered in numerous scratches, and she had injured one of her hind legs badly. Yet she would not back down. Foxstrike let out a low growl, then flung herself at the tom with all the strength she had left. She sank her claws into his back, then when he tried to roll over, she leaped off and, when he stood up again, poised for the next attack, she raked her claws down his face. Foxstrike felt a searing pain in her hind leg. She was distracted by the pain, allowing the tom to barrel into her and pin her down. He sank his claws into her throat, drawing blood. Foxstrike feebly tried to claw at his belly, but he was barely affected and he bit down onto her neck. Foxstrike twitched once, then was still. The sounds of battle started to die down.Category:Fanon Category:Fanfiction Stories Category:FlightRewritten's Fanfics